Not so easy
by kardamon
Summary: This time Haymitch doesn't make any effort to stifle a loud groan. "Honey, not that I don't appreciate all the dead things you're leaving for me on my porch, but what I really don't get is why don't you go and talk about all that with a friend instead of bugging me?" "You're my friend," she says somewhat accusingly, deep scowl almost contradicting her statement.
1. Not so easy

**Canon compliant (so not shippy - another time, maybe? - but still hayniss-centred). Set after the series, but before the epilogue.**

 **Unbetaed.**

 **Disclaimer: For some reason, I still don't own "Hunger Games".**

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"He expects me to be _happy_ ," she blurts after bursting into his messy, stale and _quiet_ living-room like a God-damn mini-blizzard she is.

He cracks one of his eyes open and glances up at her with a grimace.

"You don't _look_ happy, sweetheart," he states the obvious.

"Not now," she says impatiently, ignoring his sarcasm. " _One day_. Apparently, _one day_ I'm going to be happy again and he's willing to wait for that as long as it takes. Until then, _he's ready to just be there for me_ if I need him."

She grinds out the words but somehow still manages to emulate the Boy's mannerism well enough that Haymitch has to bite back the treacherous smile that threatens to slip on his face and destroy his sulky façade.

"Look, it's not the boy's fault that he's an _optimist_ ," he concedes, turning the last word in his mouth as if it was a name of a nasty disease. For a second their eyes meet in a shared look of distaste, "but it's not the end of the world. And while, judging by your sour face, not very likely at the moment, technically it's not _entirely_ impossible that he might get his wish in some distant future. I know it's hard to believe when you look in the mirror, but who knows? Maybe the day will come when you'll wake up all sunny smiles and roses. I'm rooting for him, because that would mean that maybe you'd stop scowling and yelling at me too."

"You don't get it," she cuts in, increasingly irritated, but completely unperturbed by his predictable tirade. "He doesn't just _want_ me to be happy. He _expects_ me to be happy. Like it's something inevitable." She takes a momentarily break to push Haymitch's stretched legs off the edge of the old, cushy armchair and to claim the seat for herself. She doesn't as much as blink in apology before jumping right back into her rant. "How can he be so sure about that? I don't think it can be taken for granted. It makes me feel like it's some kind of… obligation. I don't know. Like it's a chore I have to fulfill. I don't want him to _wait_ for anything. It's stressing me out."

"We're not talking about sex, are we?" he baits her, just because he can never pass on the opportunity to annoy her and because it amuses him that the mere sound of one short word can make her flush red. Also, it might just make her stomp her foot and leave before she has any chance to talk more about her _feelings_.

" _Haymitch!_ "

"Just checking…" she shoots him a dirty look that does nothing to discourage him. "Because if he says he wants to wait with _that_ until you're happy, you should probably look for a new boyfriend," he mutters under his breath. "Or invest in some anti-wrinkle cream."

"He wants to get married," she drops the bomb.

Haymitch groans inwardly. _She just doesn't give up, does she ever?_

"Well, do _you_ want to marry him?" he asks without thinking, surprising them both with his quick question and Katniss realizes that this might actually be the first time someone thought to check what does _she_ have to say on the matter, instead of just assuming. She bits her lip.

"I do?"

"You might want to practice saying that like it's not a question," he mocks.

Of course he does. He _always_ mocks her.

"I love him," she says, a little defensive, and for some reason self-conscious, maybe because saying the words under Haymitch's unfairly-sharp-for-someone-almost-constantly-buzzed eyes is just awkward.

"That's not exactly what I asked about, though, is it?", he startles her again.

 _Isn't it?_ – she wonders, suddenly remembering why she went to him to talk about it in the first place: because, while everyone else would just reassure her that she is doing the right thing by going along with Peeta's wishes, since they all really wanted them to be together, Haymitch wouldn't bother to say anything other than what he thought was _true_ – no matter how much he might like Peeta.

"Not that I would know anything about that, but I'd say, if you're not sure, _don't do it_ ," he says, inwardly asking himself with bewilderment _how, oh, how on the earth_ did he get himself maneuvered into a position where he was giving her _relationship_ advice? Didn't she know better than to ask _him_ anyway?

She looks at him all wide eyes and uncomfortably un-Katniss like, forcing him to remember that while in some areas she has more experience than he would wish on his worst enemy, in others she is still very much a kid. Did she even _have_ any other boyfriend before?

"I think I do want that," she says suddenly, but then furrows her eyebrows. "I'd just rather skip the whole wedding-rings-dresses-good wishes part. _Don't ever tell Effie I said that!_ " she adds hastily, making him smirk. "It's not really what really worries me, though. It's what comes after -… still not talking about… _that!_ " His smile finally widens into a shit-eating grin while her mood darkens again. "If we marry, he's going to want a baby. He never said that, but I just know. And I can't do that-"

This time Haymitch doesn't make any effort to stifle a loud groan that escapes him as he throws his head back and closes his eyes momentarily.

"Honey, not that I don't appreciate all the dead things you're occasionally leaving for me on my porch –"

" _Dead things?_ "

"Dead _animals_. So, not that I don't appreciate that, but what I really don't get is why don't you go and talk about all that with _a friend_ instead of bugging _me_?"

Seriously, he would be lying if he said that some part of him didn't think it might be not as bad thing as he had initially believed it to be that the two of them were still his closest neighbors (though he would never admit out loud that he kind of _liked_ having them so close… just to keep an eye on them, so they don't do anything too stupid… no other reason whatsoever, of course…), but whatever possessed her to keep popping at his place and spew her worries at him, like he was some kind of… like he was her… as if she, God forbid…

" _You're_ my friend," she says somewhat accusingly, deep scowl almost contradicting her statement.

He swallows around something clogging his throat ( _damn, he needs a drink_ ) before simpering it down for her:

"Like: a _female_ friend," he stresses.

He gets that she doesn't exactly have many people to talk to there, except of the Lover Boy, and this is clearly one of the instances when she wants to complain about her boyfriend rather than talk to him, but couldn't she just… like… make some new friends in town? On the market, or somewhere?

He amuses himself with conjuring in his mind an image of Katniss complimenting some woman's dress or attending tea parties…

… _on the second thought_ …

…maybe _not_.

"A _female friend_?" Katniss repeats incredulously and he has a distinct feeling that she turned the tables on him and ended as the one mocking him. "Like who? _Johanna_?"

He actually laughs at that, forcing a genuine smile from her in return.

"We're a wild bunch, huh?"

"We're not the most likeable people on the planet, that's for sure."

" _Peeta_ is likeable."

"Yeah, but he's…"

"Yeah."

They share another look and then they're both silent for a minute.

"I'm scared," she whispers suddenly, with frightening frankness, and for once, he doesn't taunt her. In fact, he wishes he could think of something to say that would help and that wouldn't be a lie, but he just can't. "No-one gets it why I'm scared _now_ , but I know you do. You can say whatever you want, Haymitch, but I know you understand. That's why you never got close to anybody all these years, isn't it?"

"I thought we've just established that I'm not exactly a friendly person," he grumbles.

"That's crap and we both know it. Sure, you're an obnoxious, bitter ass-hole…"

"…why, thank you."

"…but I'm just as bad at socializing as you are, so I have few friends. You had no-one."

"In case you didn't notice, people tend to steer clear from my miserable, alcoholic ass," he retorts calmly choosing not to comment on her usage of the past tense. "And don't forget that victors are not as popular as advertised."

"I don't buy it. Do you know what I think?"

"Just dyyyyying to find out…"

"I think you were not just avoiding people. I think you were pushing them away. Surely, you must have had some friends before. Yet, you never tried to reclaim them, get married, have family…"

He snorts.

"What? Me? Married?"

"Well…" she hesitates. "You could have found someone, if you made an effort… you know, if only you washed and… held your breath so it wouldn't be so evident how much you had to drink…"

He glares at her skeptically.

"Be careful or I might believe you mean that."

"You _could_! I'm sure there would be someone who would like you… You're…" she looks him up and down searching for one redeeming quality, "tall… and… uh… well…"

He interrupts her with a laud bark of laughter. His eyes are sparkling with mirth.

"Really, Katniss? I'm _tall_? That's your idea of romance? Poor Peeta…"

"You used to be wealthy, too…" He only stares at her at that. "Okay, I'll stop now."

" _Good_. You really should."

"Well, that's not the point! The point is, that you don't let people in… you don't start a family and bring innocents into this whole mess… because you're afraid they're going to get hurt in the process."

His smile instantly drops.

"Don't," he warns quietly. Only she's not listening.

She really doesn't know when to quit. There is no way in hell he's going to talk about this. There isn't enough booze in his whole house for that conversation.

"You're afraid it won't, _can't_ work," she lets the words flow quickly, like in a trance, and it's evident that she's no longer talking just about him. "That you're just painting targets on their backs. That it has to fall apart sooner or later. And you know what will happen when it does. That it's going to be them that would have to pay the price and you will be left with nothing but that burning hole in your heart and you just can't risk that. And you know how it would feel, because it's already-…"

"I said stop!"

She startles at the volume of his voice and blinks several times before her gaze focuses on him again.

"Don't. Go. There," he grinds out staring at her almost with hatred and she belatedly realises what she's doing to him.

She licks her lips, opens and closes them before finally letting out an almost inaudible: "Sorry…"

He keeps staring at her until she has to look down. Guilt is a very familiar feeling to her, but not one she's used to associate with Haymitch's presence. At the moment, it hits her hard.

 _This_ is why Peeta is the likeable one.

And then…

"You're not an easy person to love, sweetheart, you know that?"

She jerks her head up and her eyes fly back to his face. There is something startling in his voice as well as the look on his face that grabs her attention. The sentence is broken in half, starting angry and harsh, but then transforming into something altogether different, with an unexpected underlying softness that makes the offensive statement sound almost like a confession. His eyes, boring at her, are fierce and defiant, as if he was challenging her, yet there is something surprisingly vulnerable about them. She thinks for a second that he looks panicked, as if he had somehow revealed too much, and her suspicion is confirmed when he shifts uneasily and looks away.

Understanding dawns on her slowly, but with a certainty that settles deep in her bones. Blood rushes to her head and her heart skips a beat when her brain works through everything he said and everything he didn't say. It catches her off guard how absurdly shy yet undeniably _pleased_ the new, precious knowledge makes her feel and – by God, is she _blushing_?

"I should probably go," she says when the silence stretches uncomfortably. His only response is a grunt. He still won't look at her and she thinks he's slightly embarrassed, but at the moment she can't help but find that unlikely reaction endearing – a word she once thought she would not link to Haymitch's name even in million years.

She quietly gets up, but it's only when she already has her back turned to him when it occurs to her that there is only one thing for her to say to that.

"Hey, Haymitch?" she calls out softly.

"Huh?"

"You're not so easy to love either."

Warmth that has nothing to do with the burn of alcohol spreads through his insides.

"Piss off," he tosses half-heartedly, but he can't stop the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She shoots him a grin over her shoulder and he thinks somewhat proudly that, at least for a moment, however fleeting it might be, she looks pretty damn happy for someone who claims to be incapable of ever feeling that way.

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 **Please, review!**


	2. Old fool

**Phew! I spent hours in the kitchen today and it's time for a break.**

 **I have an early Christmas present for you in a form of another one of their awkward encounters (consider yourself warned - fluff ahead). It stems from a similar idea as "Not so easy", so I added it here, but it can also be read independently.**

 **I hope the holidays find you all well and I wish you wonderful time.**

 **As usually, I don't own these characters nor the universe - I advertise them completely for free, so you're welcome ;)**

 **And I do thank Gonsalsy for betaing this little snippet for me :) Merry Christmas!**

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Katniss felt the wooden bench shift beneath her as the additional weight pressed on it, on her left side. She knew who it was, even without looking, mostly from the lack of her own body's reaction when he joined her. She might have made a lot of progress over the years, but there were still only two people whose proximity didn't make her automatically tense, and she happened to know that the other one was somewhere else at the moment.

 _Well, no, not two_ , she thought looking at the bundle in her arms and smiled. _Three._

She was sitting just outside her house with the baby, enjoying the fresh air and nice weather on a sunny, quiet morning.

She could feel that she was being watched, but she didn't react. Had it been anyone else, staring at her feeding her firstborn, she would have probably felt uncomfortable, but Haymitch had not only seen her in various states of undress during both bouts of her Games-prepping – he had also seen her at her worst: broken, crazed, filthy, drunk out of her mind or numb from the meds, and while he might not have been very helpful back then, she had to give it to him – he'd never left. Considering there was literally no-one else she could say so about, she was willing to overlook his occasional uselessness. She couldn't really afford to be any pickier than she already was when it came to choosing her friends. Besides, the old fool had grown on her somewhere along the way, despite his numerous flaws.

The bottom line was, there was very little room left for embarrassment where Haymitch was concerned.

She wondered what he was thinking. It was the first time he'd approached her since the baby had been born, other than that one visit he'd paid them soon afterwards. She smiled again, this time inwardly, remembering the one-quarter-baffled, one-quarter-wistful and half-panicked look that appeared on Haymitch's face when Peeta unceremoniously placed the newborn in Haymitch's arms without asking. For one horrible – no, not even a full one, but for a split second Katniss seriously thought that Haymitch might just drop the baby in surprise. Thank God, he didn't.

 _Of course he didn't_ , she scolded herself and almost rolled her eyes. _He wouldn't._

In all honesty she had no idea how Haymitch felt about small children, but she recognised the jolt of fear in his expression for what it truly was, since she was often plagued with similar anxiety: that she would pass her own bad luck on to the innocent child by coming in contact with it. That she would somehow _contaminate_ the pure, fragile life that had trustingly hid inside her body, oblivious to who she was and just how laughable it was to seek protection from her.

 _Poor Haymitch_ , she thought, her good mood returning quite unexpectedly, as she remembered just how awful she'd been to him during her pregnancy. _He_ had been the one on whom she had been unloading all her frustrations, fears and hormonal angst. Whenever she had felt she was about to lose it and throw a fit, she had come to Haymitch. She'd mostly managed to temper herself in front of Peeta, but with Haymitch, all bets had been off, and he'd never known whether she was going to scream at him, or burst into tears. She'd even thrown a shoe at him once.

She wouldn't admit it out loud, but she knew she'd been using Haymitch as her emotional punching bag, feeling secure in the fact that even though she wouldn't go as far as to say that he didn't mind, she knew that he could take it and shake it off rather quickly, without any lasting damage to their relationship. It wasn't that Peeta wouldn't have understood. She knew he would have, but he would have also most probably got hurt in the process, listening to her wondering out loud just how terrible an idea it was for her to become a mother and how big of a mistake they were making, and that she wasn't even sure if she wanted it and if she could ever be happy living this life he so eagerly anticipated... While Haymitch had been capable of simply quipping at her, and rather harshly, (... _Well, it's a little too late for that, isn't it, sweetheart? Should have thought of that beforehand – it's not like there is anything that can be done now, other than survive whatever comes next, is there?..._ ), or gloat over the fact that she couldn't drink his alcohol. Surprisingly, most of the time (with a few memorable exceptions) he also knew when she was too upset for his attitude and needed him to shut it and bear with her demons. All in all, he'd been a good friend to her, which was probably why the silence currently stretching between them felt companionable, rather than uncomfortable.

The baby fell asleep, so she carefully shifted its position and adjusted her clothing.

It was a good feeling – one that she wouldn't have believed she could ever get to experience, just a few years ago: sitting outside of her house on a peaceful, sunny day, with her son in her arms, and a friend at her side.

"I'm so proud of you," Haymitch blurted unexpectedly, catching Katniss off guard.

She blinked and looked up surprised, not sure if she even heard him correctly. She couldn't catch his eye, because he dropped his gaze quickly and then looked away, loose strands of his hair obscuring his face. By the time she opened her mouth to say his name, he was already half turned away from her and getting up, mumbling incoherently something about needing to "get going", though what he might have to urgently take care of remained unclear to Katniss. She watched his back, a bit stunned as he hurriedly made his way toward his house without a backward glance, his sudden haste more than a little suspicious and all the proof she needed to know that he was mortified by what he'd just said, but probably even more so that he had meant it.

"Old fool," she whispered, apparently to no-one, seeing as Haymitch was already out of view, but she found herself smiling.

It was a good feeling, indeed.


End file.
